


Life is Like a Song

by Tabithian



Series: Light the Path [17]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-17
Updated: 2015-08-17
Packaged: 2018-04-15 04:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4593084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce has.</p><p>It's not quite a smile, but the man is so very, very amused when he tells Tim about the <i>concerns</i> that have been brought to his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life is Like a Song

**Author's Note:**

> Supercomicgirl asked for college AU #7 from [this list](http://tabithian.tumblr.com/post/126696742224/aus) and wanted a crappy party store costume, so. This is the first of two fics for the prompt because why not, really. /o\
> 
> Set in a happy-ish AU after Bruce is ~lost in time and comes back to Gotham and things aren't completely terrible. 
> 
> Yes. :D?

Bruce has.

It's not quite a smile, but the man is so very, very amused when he tells Tim about the _concerns_ that have been brought to his attention.

“What kind of concerns?” Tim asks.

Bruce's eyebrows go up, as though he's surprised Tim doesn't know. 

“Well,” Bruce says. “People have brought this up with Lucius, and I thought he might have mentioned it to Tam. I thought for sure she would have said something to you about it.”

And he _looks_ at Tim, borderline Brucie.

This is. 

This is absolutely maddening, because Bruce is enjoying this. 

“Spit it out Bruce.”

And there, little smirk at the corners of his mouth.

“You never graduated high school,” Bruce says, and there's genuine concern there, regret. “And people are _concerned_ , considering your position with Wayne Enterprises.”

“Really. Now. Now they're concerned.”

Tim is starting to hate that word.

Bruce nods in acknowledgment of people and their _concerns_.

“What do you have in mind to address these concerns?” Tim asks, because Bruce.

He wouldn't do this if there wasn't some kind of plan in mind.

Bruce.

He _smiles_.

“It was Lucius' idea, actually.”

“Bruce.”

“These concerns,” Bruce says, smile widening, “will be appeased if you were to get your High School Equivalency Diploma.”

Tim waits, because - 

“Although,” Bruce continues. “Lucius said some kind of college degree would set more minds at ease.”

********

Tim shouldn't even need to do this, he's the controlling shareholder for Wayne Enterprises.

(But.)

********

The others find out, of course, once Tim gets his High School Equivalency Diploma, because Tim has to make allowances for his college courses. Has to rearrange things so he won't end up a turning into a withered husk from running himself ragged.

********

“Holy shit,” Jason says. “You're Billy Madison.”

“Jason - “

“No, like. This is amazing.”

Jason's laughing, which could be problematic because they are doing reconnaissance.

“You know - “

“Can't. Legally dead,” Jason says, like Tim wouldn't find a way to make him suffer along with him. “Also, I don't give a shit, so do with that what you will.”

Jason looks at Tim, so, so amused. 

“And, hey, you know. Enjoy being shoved into lockers again.”

********

For the record, Tim has never been shoved into a locker. 

********

“Tt.”

“I don't even know what that means in this context.”

“ _Tt._ ”

********

“They grow up so fast, don't they?”

“Oh my God, Steph, what?”

Steph wipes imaginary tears from her eyes and hugs Cass tight to her side. “I'm just so proud of you, going off to college to make something of yourself.”

“ _Steph_.”

“So, very proud,” Cass says, clearly fighting laughter.

********

Alfred presents Tim with a care package, along with helpful little pamphlets on how to survive college, eyes shining with amusement.

“You too, huh, Alfred?”

“I'm certain I have no idea what you're referring to,” Alfred says.

********

Barbara sends him applications to colleges out of state because she is amazing and _knows_ these lunatics Tim has to deal with.

********

Tempting as it is to try and escape the insanity in Gotham (his family), Tim knows it would only be worse if he attended a college out of state. 

********

“Dick - “

“Ooh, hey, this one sounds interesting.”

“No, Dick, no,” Tim says, and tries to grab the course catalog away from Dick.

But this is Dick, isn't it.

Dick who grins up at him, wraps his hand around Tim's wrist and yanks him down, turns and flop over Tim, octopus arms and legs and Tim's face mashed against his shoulder.

“So, college, huh?”

Tim can't really talk, words coming out muffled and indistinct, but he thinks Dick gets the general gist when he starts laughing. 

“I think this means you're going to be the only one of us to actually get a degree.”

Not true.

“I mean, Bruce doesn't count, because you know. Bruce.”

What. 

What does that even mean?

“And Barbara,” Dick snorts. “I mean, you know. _Barbara_.”

If she's listening in, or managed to get that camera working again, Dick is going to regret that so much. 

Dick seems to sense the direction Tim's thoughts have gone because he lets him have a little room to breathe, brings his face close.

“What I mean is you're going to be the first one of us losers to get a college degree, and that's pretty great.”

Dick has that look on his face, the one that's all about the things they've missed out on because of this lifestyle. (Not necessarily what he's missed out on, so much as the rest of their family, and Tim.)

Tim _shoves_ , just enough, uses his feet and bony elbows (thanks Jason) and Dick flails as he goes over the side of the bed, Tim managing to keep the higher ground.

Looks down at Dick who has a surprised look on his face, and _smirks_ , because - 

Oh, look, there's a pillow conveniently within reach. And oh look again, there's Dick's face. (It would be such a shame if the two were to meet in some way.)

********

Tim was expecting to.

Maybe not hate this, exactly, so much as see it as an annoyance, but he's pleasantly surprised.

The classes are easy, for the most part. Already things Tim's learned over the years, but it's a little odd how nice it is to get a refresher on some things.

He meets people his own age who don't fight crime at night - or if they do, they're very good at staying under his radar – who seem to actually be not terrible. (Well, they are, but not the bad kind of terrible.)

********

“Drake, you have to.”

Tim would rather not, thanks.

“Please, please, please? You have the voice down!”

Tim makes a face because. There was a thing.

A thing that involved patrol, covering for do-nothings on a group project at the last minute an unholy (and unhealthy) combination of energy drinks and coffee because Tim had seen the light. 

Or finally lost his mind, either or.

And.

One of the do-nothings being foolish enough to wonder aloud how Tim had gotten things done so fast when their presentation was over. Tim leaning over to growl, _”I'm Batman,”_ in a credible Batman voice before passing out face down on his desk.

(Admittedly, not one of his finer moments.)

“I don't even know how you talked me into going to this party?”

Tim doesn't really.

“Oh, I see. You're saying you can't do it. I understand, I mean. You know.”

Tim doesn't?

“I'm sorry?”

Tim gets a look. 

“Well.”

There's a certain kind of pause, a certain kind of look.

“I mean, Batman's so...Batman, and you're.”

Tim knows he's being manipulated, but really, it's.

Insulting?

Yes, he'll go with that one.

That, and the costume his friend wants him to wear is like a knock-off of a bad imitation of a Batman costume. 

It's terrible, and he's pretty sure the dye would wash out if it gets wet, the cape is made of some flimsy material that makes a crinkling sound whenever it moves. 

The cowl is just. 

What. 

Flimsy, is probably the kindest word for it, and the supports for one of the ears is broken turning it into a sad drooping thing that _flops_.

It's terrible.

Bruce would be quietly horrified.

Tim secretly loves it.

His friend looks at him, sees the way Tim's rubbing the material of the cape between his fingers, and smirks.

“I dare you.”

Well, okay then. 

If he must.

********

There is.

There is a guy in an equally horrible Red Hood costume _mingling_ , and.

Tim's absolutely certain those guns are real.

“Ah, Dark Knight.”

Tim stares up at the “helmet” that's really just horrible paper mache, lopsided mouth and eye slits that don't seem to be on the same level. 

“You don't even go here,” Tim says, because his horrible college friends and awful movies that are not so secretly fantastic.

“I'm going to get so many pictures,” Jason says.

“I hate you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jason says, sounds pleased about it.

********

There's a Batman on Tim's balcony when he gets home from the party later that night.

********

Tim looks up at a soft sound, deliberate, and sees - 

Batman is on his balcony, something oh so amused in his body language.

Tim looks down at himself, the horrible, horrible imitation of a bad Batman costume, and decides, the hell with it.

Puffs up his chest, raises his chin and does The Walk over to where Batman is leaning back against his balcony railing, arms crossed over his chest, tiny, tiny smile on his lips.

“I'll have you know I'm wearing this Batman costume because of a dare.”

Batman says nothing, continues to study him and Tim.

Tim rolls his eyes, leans in and growls, “I'm Batman.”

“Oh my God, so precious,” Dick says, face breaking out into a grin. “Do it again.”

Tim sighs, leans back and self-consciously tries to fix the floppy ear because it's _annoying_ , cape crinkling like mad. 

“Well,” he says, giving up on the sad Batman ear. “One of us is going to have change.”

And there goes Dick, smirking all over the place. Tim knows Dick's eyebrows are doing something obscene right now. 

“So forward, Batman,” Dick says, utterly delighted.

“So annoying, Batman,” Tim shoots back. “Did Jason tell you about this?”

As if Dick and the others haven't been keeping an eye on him (why, he sees them almost every night) and popping into this new part of his life at random moments.

Dick takes a step forward, Tim stands his ground.

Another step forward, Tim's eyes narrow as he carefully tugs the cowl down.

“You know,” Dick says, laughter in his voice. “That costume is growing on me. It's like the sad Charlie Brown Christmas tree of Batman costumes.”

That's.

Yeah, pretty much it. So sad you can't help but feel bad for it.

“Nice.”

Dick shrugs, a fluid movement that does all these nice things for him.

“Tim?”

“Hmm?”

Dick cocks his head, takes another step forward, and oh, look, there's a little bit of contact going on right now.

Dick laughs, this interesting little rumble in his chest Tim can feel in his hands, because touching.

“Did you actually sleep at all in the last week?”

It's meant to be a joke, Tim can tell, but.

Probably?

There was patrol, and midterms, and Tim still has responsibilities at Wayne Enterprises, work to do for Neon Knights, and there was the trip to the party store for costumes, and the party and - 

“Wow, okay, you're really getting the hang of college life, aren't you?”

Tim scowls, opens his mouth to retort, because really he's done this no sleep weird shenanigans thing before, thank you. 

“Yeah, how about we move this to the bedroom - “

Tim - 

“To _sleep_ , Tim,” Dick says gets Tim turned around and gets him moving toward the bedroom with a hand in the small of his back.

Tim glances over his shoulder at Dick. 

“Batman should not be making that face,” Dick says, and he's laughing, and Tim.

“Batman should not be laughing at Batman,” Tim says, like that even makes sense.

“Sad Batman,” Dick corrects, because yes.

“Hmm,” Tim says, spots the bed and turns.

Uses a move Dick taught him way back when to trip him up, _yanks_ and both Batmen end up in a tangle on the bed, Tim coming up on top.

“Sad Batman wins,” he says, grins, rests his chin on his arms over Dick's chest.

Dick snorts, flicks Tim's hair out of his eyes. “Sad Batman is a dirty cheater.”

Tim shrugs, yawns and pushes and shoves at Dick because Batman's suit is far from comfortable. “I was promised sleep.”

Snags a pillow and places it just so, one end half-covering Dick's face, excellent.

Dick sighs, so put upon.

“You know this thing wasn't made to be slept in?”

Lies.

“Bruce is a freak of nature,” Dick says, but fondly, because Bruce and his cameras and whatnot they're not supposed to acknowledge because he thinks they don't know. 

Understatement, but Tim will accept it.

“You're not going to budge on this, are you?”

Tim _looks_ at him.

“Yeah, thought so,” Dick sighs, mouth curving. “Sad Batman is bossy.”

Tim.

“This better not turn into a thing with you.”

Dick's worse than an internet meme sometimes.

“I'll think about it,” Dick says. “No promises.”

Probably the best Tim can expect, really.

“Deal,” he says, grabs for the blanket and pulls it up because he's in a terrible Batman costume and Dick has the real thing, and it's cold. “Now sleep.”

Dick laughs, an interesting little rumble Tim can feel up against his own chest, because touching.


End file.
